Shattered
by samanthax28
Summary: Melissa always knew  there was something unusual going on at home, but she never could have been prepared for the struggles to come.


Chapter 1:

I held the phone more tightly to my ear as I paced back and forth through the kitchen. I listened to the ringing on the other end of the phone go into voicemail. She never answered. That didn't surprise me. I wanted to say that this wasn't like her, but that would be a lie. She did this often, almost too often. She has left and not answered her phone for hours at a time leaving the whole family worried. I paced faster throughout the kitchen thinking of the worst possible scenario. I, unfortunately, got that from my mom. I was the The-glass-is-half-empty kind of person. Some would call that pessimist. I call it concern.

I stopped and tried her number again. This time it went straight into voicemail instead of ringing first. She must have turned it off. She does that whenever we try to call her and she doesn't want to talk to us. She _must_ still be at work. I searched through my contacts until I found the title that said _Mom Work_, and I pressed send. The perky receptionist voice answered on the second ring. I listened to the all too familiar "East View Hospital, this is Julie, how may I help you," introduction without much interest.

"Is Tory Massey available?" I asked her

"No, she hasn't come into work today."

"She hasn't?" I asked curiously.

"I'm afraid not. She had today off." She answered.

"Um, okay. Thank you."

"Is there anything else I can help-"

I hung up, ignoring the all too eager receptionist. She hadn't come to work? There must be some mistake. She had told me that she had to work late and wasn't sure when she would be home. It's not like she hasn't lied to me before, but I just don't see any logical reason why she would feel the need to lie about working late. She has never been the most trustworthy person on earth, but I'm sure she wouldn't be out doing anything that she couldn't tell us about. At least I think she wouldn't.

My mind reeled back two years ago. I remembered our old house like we were just there yesterday. It was just as I had always knew; the walls clean and crisp, and the ceilings high as ever. On entrance, you were greeted with what would be a very spacious entry way if not for my mom's cluttered decor; paintings, candles, and years old family portraits neatly placed on tables and hung on walls. If anyone in my family would have even the littlest urge to clean, it would be the picture perfect home. But no, the living room was cluttered with toys, the kitchen a mess from what cooking we _did_ attempt, and all other rooms unorganized and unattended to.

Floral couches, donated to us by grandparents, sat in a diagonal box-like pattern in the center of the brightly lit living room. Three large windows stood stacked, one on top of the other, on the far wall, making for the best lit room in the house.

The sound of the front door opening pulled me out of my confusion. My step-dad Nick strode into the room. "Melissa, get ready," he said.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"The fair." He said, "We're going with Sarah from church."

I ran upstairs to my room and pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I glanced in the mirror before leaving and nodded in approval. Pulling the door shut behind me, I yelled downstairs telling Nick that I was ready.

I piled into the car with my brother Jackson and sister Caitlyn. The fair was forty five minutes away, and the only sounds were from my younger siblings fighting as they usually did. Apparently Nick also took notice because within seconds he was yelling at them to "Shut up and keep your hands to yourselves!"

"Is Mom coming to the fair with us?" I asked as we drove.

"No. She has… other things to do."

"She wasn't at work today." I pointed out.

"Your mom hasn't exactly been telling the truth about where she's been lately."He said. I gave him a confused look, but all I got was a look of pity in return. He turned forward and pretended to be enthralled on driving. He tried his best to leave his expression blank, but when I looked in his eyes I could see sadness. Something was wrong, but I wasn't about to go too deep into the subject. I remained silent instead. We spent the whole drive that way; neither one of us said anything. Even Jackson and Caitlyn seemed unusually quiet for once.

The silence was finally broken when we arrived at Sarah's house. Sarah was in our bible study group. She was very religious and always knew the right thing to do. I strode up the sidewalk and rang the doorbell. Within seconds, the door was open and was greeted by her bright smiling face. She gave me a quick hello and invited me inside. She gave the kids a quick hug and hello as they entered and gave Nick a smile and nod. From the look they exchanged with each other, I could tell that something was wrong, and they knew something that I didn't.

We were waiting at Sarah's house until her husband got home from work. He didn't get off for another hour and a half, so we had some time to kill. We all settled in her living room with the TV on. Sarah offered to get us all drinks. I said that I would have a Dr. Pepper-my favorite-, sprites for Caitlyn and Jackson, nothing for Nick (He was trying to lose weight).

Sarah returned to the room with our drinks, struggling to distribute them correctly. As she juggled the cans, giving Caitlyn my Dr. Pepper, she asked, "So how's your summer vacation going so far?" She exchanged gazes with all of us.

"Daddy took us to the pool yesterday!" Caitlyn exclaimed.

"Oh, that sounds fun! What about you Mel?" Sarah said. I debated over telling her about the constant absence of my mother, knowing I could trust her. But I decided against it, remembering the rest of my family was in the room. I would wait until we were alone.

"Just hanging with my friends," I told her, "Nothing special." I could tell she noticed my earlier hesitation, and apparently so had Nick because after a few minutes he asked if he could "talk to me outside".

He led me back through the maze of hallways to the front door. Once we were outside, he pulled the door partially shut behind him. After a moment's hesitation, he pulled it closed. This was _not_ going to be good. He took a chair on the porch and motioned for me to do the same.

I thought I was ready to hear what he had to say, but nothing could have prepared me for what was to come.


End file.
